Family Man
by AquilaMage
Summary: Detective Badd was already part of the Faraday family, but it takes some time (and a few very important conversations) before they all work that out.


The first time it happens, Badd is over at the Faradays' working on a case.

"Hey Dad, can you come help me with this?"

It isn't until he pulls his head out of the fridge to berate Faraday for ignoring his daughter that Badd realizes he hasn't come downstairs yet. Instead, Kay sits at the kitchen table holding a workbook and watching his silence with big eyes and a tiny frown that grows as the moment stretches on.

He soon comes to the conclusion that she hasn't realized what she'd done. She's just so used to saying it with her father, and with the familiar setting, it makes enough sense. Badd shakes it off and goes to assist her without comment.

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The next one he almost misses.

Despite the fact that he was only delivering paperwork, Kay insists on accompanying him around the office. She spends most of the time tucked under his coat (which is helpful, considering that Faraday has gone and pinned his badge on her again. Not that Badd doesn't also enjoy the poorly concealed annoyance on the other prosecutors' faces, but he would never admit that. Besides, it's an inconvenience he'd rather not have to deal with right now) with a practiced step that keeps them from tripping each other up. What she does manage, though, is to startle him a few times. Despite being so much smaller, Kay's been steadily improving at matching the sound of his footsteps until he almost forgets she's there. If her tiny bouts of laughter are anything to go by, she's very much enjoying her newfound ability, and he can't bring himself to be upset with her about it.

When they get back to Faraday's office, he holds up the edge of his coat to let her out.

Giggling, she throws out a quick "thanks, Dad!" and reaches for the door handle.

Lost in thought, he nods. It's a couple steps later when his brain catches up with the _content_ of what she'd said, not just the meaning. It would've been easy enough to dismiss it as another accident of the same kind if it hadn't been for the fact that when Kay sees her father and runs for him, what she yells is "Hi, Daddy!"

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He still doesn't address it, even as it continues to happen every so often over the course of the next few months. Which, other than himself being more troubled by the implications, seems to work out alright.

Right up until the moment it very much _doesn't_.

It's at the Faraday household again. Badd is attempting to convince Kay to get going for school while Faraday's busy in the kitchen. While she does finally give in, his sense of accomplishment is immediately brought crashing to a halt by her response of "_alright_ Dad, I'm moving", that's made just as Faraday walks into the room.

Up until now Kay's only said it with the two of them around, something he hadn't put much thought into. As he watches Faraday blink in surprise, though, he curses himself for not worrying more about this exact situation. He doesn't know if he expected Faraday to be angry or weirded out or what, but Badd tenses up even more when the response is laughter. "What?"

Faraday shakes his head and turns to Kay. "Why don't you take your things out to the car, sweetheart?" As soon as she's outside, he leans back against the doorway, still smiling, albeit with the beginnings of the thoughtful look he gets when talking to a potential witness.

"Sorry about that." Reading the atmosphere, there doesn't feel to be a need for an apology, but in the absence of having anything else to say, Badd throws out an easy way out for the both of them. Something to shrug off the situation and then never have to talk about it again.

So of course Faraday laughs more. "There's no need for that." Seeing Badd's skeptical look, he sighs, looking at him with surprising seriousness. "It isn't- …I really don't mind." A brief pause where his expression teeters a few shades towards concern. "I can talk to her, if it bothers you."

"No. It's fine." He's surprised by his own response at first. But then when he thinks about it more, it's not that he's bothered by Kay's actions so much as that he's not _un_bothered by it. That's all far too complicated to explain in the moment (especially given that he's just started tugging at it himself), so all he adds is "but…make sure she knows not to let it happen in front of anyone else."

Badd _sees_ the way Faraday's demeanor lifts at his first response, stance more relaxed; the expectant tilt of his head he does when he's sure the person he's listening to has something else to say; and the extra moment than usual it takes him to read Badd's indication of being done with the conversation – but none of it _registers_ at the time. All he notices is Faraday nod, and they head out and go their separate ways without further comment.

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He'd meant it when he turned down Faraday's offer to talk to Kay. Despite that, and despite the fact that he also hadn't had any intention of discussing it with her himself, that's exactly what he finds himself doing after another dozen or so instances of her calling him 'Dad'.

"Why do you keep calling me that?"

She licks her fingers clean of sandwich jam before answering, casually, "Because that's what you are."

He stares at her from the other side of the bench. It's in hedged-off grassy area - too small to be called a park but lacking in any other features that could designate it as anything else - almost halfway between her school and his office. "How…do you figure?" They'd learned a long time ago that just telling Kay 'no' about something she'd made her mind up on rarely ever worked.

Her eyebrow raised, she stares at him for a moment as if she can't believe he even has to ask. "You do all the same stuff." She shrugs.

He wants to argue with her that that's not true. After all, it's not like he _raised_ her. He's just been helping Faraday out. Trading off different tasks when they worked together and occasionally watching her by himself when they weren't. Making sure she was always kept safe, including teaching her to look out for herself as much as could be expected for her age. And of course seeing to it that she was happy and healthy.

…All of which he'd done on practically a daily basis, pretty much since the day she was born.

Well, shit.

If anything, the urge to protest increases, but he knows any differences he could come up with would be technicalities; everywhere it counts, he has indeed been like a parent to her.

He opts to change the subject then, but it's something he finds himself spending the rest of the day freaking out about in the back of his mind. Badd has always cared about Kay, and always been keenly aware of that. But…the idea of being a _father_ for her – it's not what he'd been trying to do or ever even thought of as a possibility, but without him noticing it's passed from possible to a very obvious in hindsight reality. Practically speaking, there's nothing that would change _because_ of that title, but in his mind there is a _world_ of difference between "family friend who watches out for a kid a bunch" and "father," and the responsibilities and expectations associated with the latter are not ones that he wants to mess up. Not with Kay.

"Got something on your mind, Badd?"

He looks up from his papers (that he'd admittedly been staring at without really reading) to see Faraday, sitting on the front of his desk, watching him with a cautious tilt of the head.

Then, of course, there's the whole other side to the problem. After all, it's not as if Kay is lacking in a present and caring father already. Hell, he doesn't think there's a real person who _could_ be better than Byrne tries to be. The idea of someone else being in that same place…that doesn't seem like something Faraday would just brush off. And yeah, he hasn't had a problem so far, but how much beyond 'casual amusement at his small child's antics' is that going to extend?

"Does it _really_ not bother you that Kay's been calling me dad?" It's not meant to come as accusatory and sharp as it does, and it takes the both of them off-guard.

Soon enough, though, Faraday recovers. "No," he says, with the same surety he had the first time.

Badd wants to believe him. To drop it again and just accept that it would all be fine after that. But he's known Faraday long enough, been paying enough attention to the details of this whole affair in turning them over in his head, that he can tell there's _something_ else going on. He just doesn't know what.

In an ideal situation, it would be something benign. Considering how things actually go, he's pretty sure it's not, and that does not encourage him to go near the subject. Not only would it affect himself and Kay, but also with Faraday. They've been working together for so long, and so well, because they know they can trust each other (none of which he can say about the other prosecutors). Even outside of work, Badd finds him to be an enjoyable person to be around. Sure, Faraday gets on his nerves, but not in the same way that anyone else does (and if he's being honest, he doesn't mind it nearly as much as he makes it seem). He's worked too hard to keep things in a safe place between them to risk things here.

Problem is, their understanding of each other goes both ways. Badd doesn't actively react to his answer, but it's easy enough for Faraday to pick up from the stiffness of his body language that something about it is troubling him. "I mean that." He runs a hand through his hair. Sighs, and continues, more solemnly. "If she'd also stopped calling me dad, _then_ I'd be concerned. But it's not like I'm being replaced, and if it makes Kay happy without bothering anyone else…" He trails off as Badd continues to stare at him. "What?" It's said with genuine concern.

Which is fair, since Badd's expression has grown intense and thoughtful. He doesn't respond yet, though. He's much more occupied by the realization that what Faraday's said has reminded him of a different conversation they had ages ago.

He can't recall the exact context of what led up to the question, but since what followed was the important part, he supposes he shouldn't worry. Kay had been about four (and Badd has to take a moment to think about when exactly he started measuring memories with her as a baseline. He doesn't know) when he'd stumbled on the question of why Faraday hadn't had a significant other since before Kay was born.

"I've managed just fine on my own so far, haven't I?" he responded with the usual deceptively careless confidence.

Badd raised an eyebrow.

He sighed. "Alright. _We've_ been doing fine. I don't recall asking for your help, though."

He hadn't. Despite being in a near-constant state of exhaustion in the months following Kay's birth (not helped by the fact that he'd gone back to work almost right away instead of giving his body a break), Faraday had refused to let Badd do anything. Getting Faraday to accept help had been less 'making an argument that he agreed with' and more 'literally taking Kay out of his arms when he fell asleep holding her and staring him down when he tried to argue his way into getting her back the moment he regained consciousness.' It wasn't often that he was that destructively stubborn, but for better or for frustrating, Badd soon learned Faraday would always have an extra layer of caution when it came to his little girl.

"Besides, that's not even…" He paused, sighed. "Well, it does have to do with Kay, but not like that." His words took on an even, steady pace that usually only comes with practice. Clearly this was something he'd been thinking on a lot. "There aren't a lot of people out there who are interested in someone who's already got a kid. Even among the ones who don't have a problem with it, the prevailing attitude I've encountered is that they're willing to 'work around it' rather than having an active interest in her as a person too. That's not what I want for her." He leaned back against the wall, hands in his pockets. "Kay deserves someone who loves her absolutely, and I'm not even going to consider anyone willing to do less."

For a moment, Badd simply stood there, trying not to stare, to give anything away. The conviction in Byrne's voice alone was like nothing he'd ever heard, something he'd felt echo through him. And honestly, when he thought about it, based on what he knew of him, he would've been disappointed to hear anything less from the likes of Faraday. Instead of any of that, though, he said, "You might be…waiting a long time on that."

He smiled. "If it makes Kay happy, I can live with that."

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Now, he doesn't know if the connection truly was intentional, but there's something about the way it was said that Badd can't ignore. He softens his voice, trying to keep his expression safely neutral. "You got something you want to say to me, Byrne?"

He jolts out of his slouch. "I don't know what you mean." With the light of the encroaching sunset at his back, it's hard to see well enough to make out his facial expressions, but there's clearly the same flavor of defensive posture as when he's thrown off-guard in court.

Again, it would be _so_ easy to use that as a cue to stop pushing. Badd doesn't know whether he's nervous about being right or afraid of being wrong, but suddenly what Byrne's trying to hide might not be such a bad thing and he _has_ to at least try. He raises an eyebrow, doesn't give any ground. "All I'm saying is, I'm pretty sure we're both remembering the same _other_ conversation about you doing things for Kay."

Faraday sucks in a breath. Then, after a moment, he sighs, slow and heavy. The tension's gone from his body, but he's not so much relaxed as resigned. "I should've expected you would figure it out eventually, no matter how much I tried to hide it." A dry laugh. "Not that I even intended for it to happen in the first place. I mean, when I said about Kay and someone caring about her, and-" Shaking his head, he gets off the desk. "I'm sorry."

Even despite the fact that he'd started thinking things could go this way, hearing the confirmation leaves Badd stunned. He's always known Byrne enjoyed being around him, the whole deal, but he'd never thought he would have _feelings_ for him (that's a bit simple of a way of putting it, but the first alternative phrasing his brain supplies is far too direct and too _much_ for him to consider thinking yet). Because of this, it takes him a while to register that Faraday is going through the files of his drawers. "What…are you doing?"

"Look, it's your choice, but I don't know how comfortable you'd be still working together, considering." He looks up from where he's kneeling to where Badd is standing on the other side of the desk. There's something deep in his eyes, a fear that Badd's never seen from him before. "You don't have to stick around, but…if we could at least figure out something to soften the blow for Kay?"

_Oh_. "Is that why you never said anything?" Taking care to soften his movements as much as possible, he moves over to sit on the floor next to Faraday.

After a moment's consideration, he plops down as well. "I know, right?" He rests his head in between his knees. "Finally find someone who cares about her, but _then_ I realize I'm still in a situation where doing anything about it would compromise things." A hand combs his hair out of his face. "Well, that and," the same hand waves as much in the vague direction of between the two of them as it can considering that he's not looking. "Prosecutor. Detective. I didn't want to make you feel pressured to act a certain way, even unintentionally."

There are so many ways he could respond to that, but he settles for the simplest, most general but true. He doesn't want to press Faraday's nerves so far so fast. "As if…I ever let that happen before now."

There's a lengthy pause in which the only apparent movement is his breathing and his eyes darting back and forth as he thinks. Finally, he laughs weakly. "Yeah. I guess you're right." He sits up enough to cross his arms over his knees and then rest his chin on that, still staring at the underside of his desk.

When Faraday doesn't make any other moves, Badd huffs. He certainly can't blame him for not picking up on the full meaning of what he'd said, in the circumstances. And since Byrne's already gone and done the harder part, it's only fair that he makes sure the truth on his side is fully laid out as well. "It's not terrible reasoning. But there's a few things you haven't considered."

Byrne turns his head just enough to look at him.

"Like…if I really cared about Kay so much, knowing how attached she is to me, you really think I'd drop out of her life like that, no matter how I felt about you?"

His eyes widen to an extent that would be comical were it not for the grimace that follows as he smacks himself on the forehead. He takes a long breath. "I'm pretty stupid, huh?"

"No. Just dense, sometimes."

The familiar response does some to lessen his tension. "I guess we'll figure something out, then." Byrne closes his eyes, and his posture has something of his usual, animated self in it again even as he rests for a beat. Then he tilts his head to the side. He draws his words out as he picks them, carefully, half question half accusatory statement. "You said- _things_… I hadn't considered."

"Yeah."

He shifts to face him. "What else?"

"Your other assumption...was that your feelings were going to be a problem for me in the first place." Badd finds himself leaning in as he speaks, dropping his voice even though there isn't a need for it.

A flash of confusion across his face. "You don't mean…?"

The fearful disbelief in Byrne's tone is what gets to him most out of everything that's happened. The raw feeling to it, even with Byrne knowing what the intent behind Badd's words _has_ to be – if he'd had any doubts about whether Byrne really felt that way about him, they're gone now. Badd knows it's only fair, then, to give him the same absolute certainty.

Well, evidence usually did the trick. So, in response, Badd simply tugs at his scarf, gently pulling Byrne forward to kiss him.

It lasts a few seconds wherein Byrne doesn't react at all. When they pull away, he simply breathes out a barely audible "oh." But then, before Badd can voice the concerns that have begun to sprout, Byrne throws his arms over Badd's shoulders and all but yanks him into a second, much more fervent kiss of his own.


End file.
